Christmas Miracles in the Warsaw Pact
by aphtrashbin
Summary: Historical Hetalia Frying Pangle/mostly PruHun, based around the holidays of 1989, the 'year of revolutions'. One last Christmas when they're all Communists in the Warsaw Pact, and miracles are still coming for them.


The day of America's party, after Austria had flown out, was the day that Gilbert went out shopping for presents with Elizabeta for the first time in the West of Germany. It was surreal, to walk past the remains of the wall, and see people still sort of going through it all.

Not even a month since he'd been freed.

"Man. Wonder if Lutz'll feel me…" He murmured, rubbing his neck.

"Surely you told him you'd be here?" Hungary raised her eyebrow in confusion, and laughed as Gilbert only shrugged. "Oh my god." She snickered. "Man. It is kind of weird though. Usually I was only here on foreign things, and even then- not that often."

Gilbert grinned. "However, nothing will surprise the other nations more than having actual food at this party! No more rationed nonsense!" He laughed heartily, and Elizabeta had to agree.

The two went shopping, Elizabeta patting down her coat awkwardly as she noticed a few Westerners staring at her and Gilbert.

"How is Ludwig handling it, anyway? I lost track of you for at _least_ 12 hours while that was all going down. And then you show up at Austria's place with a bag of stuff from your place?" Elizabeta recalled.

The other nation paused. "Well, I told Ludwig that I needed some time to…I dunno. Go through some shit? And as much as I loved him, my government wouldn't be happy for just…ditching them." He shrugged again. "He was… _upset_ that I didn't stay, so I just…went to you guys instead. Austria was a non-aligned country, anyway."

"And where better to stay at than with him." Elizabeta finished. "Kinda my thought in going there too." She scratched her head. "If I had stayed, I'd be too Communist, but if I went to, say, Belgium…I'd be too pro-West. Heh…we gave him a lot of shit for it… but looks like staying neutral isn't too bad of an idea."

"I always thought Switzerland had something going for him." Gilbert chortled.

He wrapped an easy arm around Elizabeta, and she leaned her head against him. "Well, what should we bring? Are we cooking at your place?"

"Pu-lease. I am taking full advantage of Roderich's high-end dining services." He reminded archly, before grinning brightly down at her. "Now, c'mon- we have present and grocery shopping to do!"

XXXXX

3 hours later had the two Warsaw Pact countries unloading everything from their car.

"Get your ass in the kitchen, Gil. I'll wrap these things up." Elizabeta ordered, handling the boxes easily as the East German nodded, grabbing his remaining groceries and starting up preparing the lavish sort of Western foods they'd not been able to get their hands on in a while. Well. They were also out of things like butter. So there was that.

Gilbert had been a ready chef from the first time the two had lived together behind the Iron Curtain. Unlike Hungary and Austria, who had ruled in a manor during their time as the Austrian-Hungarian Empire, Prussia had to learn how to fend for himself and a picky child, and had a knack for cooking. He would give them that explanation, but something fleeting in his expression when he mentioned it told her that wasn't the whole story.

10 minutes later and some delicious smells were filling the air, and Elizabeta was readily packaging gifts for the people she hoped would be coming. Poland, Czech and Slovakia had all confirmed, and the others had at least sent notice that they would come if they could.

It was nice, though. Their house would soon be filled with the sounds of the Warsaw Pact countries once again, and this time, they knew that they would probably turn out just fine in the next century.

Poland arrived early, as was to be expected of him, and with him was a very frazzled looking Lithuania, who gave Gilbert a handshake that was a little too strong.

"I still don't like you, but thanks for putting this on." Toris said, and Elizabeta snorted as she nudged Poland, who handed her some gifts from the two of them. "They're small, but they were what we could make!" Poland explained. "For the lot of us, you know?"

"Feliks, you didn't have to…but thanks, and it was no problem to do this." She nodded sincerely. "Gil and I found out we had, yet _again_ , been denied an invitation to America's Christmas Party, so we said, to heck with it. Once more for the Cold War, everyone." Hungary then gestured to the coat rack for the new arrivals to set their things down.

"I'm not done making dinner, guys, if you want to join us in the kitchen." Gilbert said, not rising up to Toris' passive-aggressiveness at the moment as he walked back into the kitchen, putting back on his oven mitts as he heard his

"Austria has better TV than we did." Hungary admitted readily, humming as she thought of how to entertain the two for the moment. "If you wanna see what the West has been getting…"

"He also has internet!" Gilbert shouted from the kitchen. "That's super interesting! He's not told me the passcode for his dialup but Lizzy knows it!"

"It's the date Austria was released from the USSR." Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised East didn't guess it already…not that he or I can use it, anyway."

Hungary handed Toris and Feliks the remote, and the two turned on the news. She asked if they wanted something to drink- and beer was the answer first on the tongue. They were all sick of vodka.

Walking back in, she saw Gilbert finishing setting up a plate of appetizers, and gestured for Elizabeta to take them out. Hungary carried the plate in along with a few beers, and the brunette was slightly glad she hadn't sat down yet- the doorbell rang again.

"Look who the cat dragged in." Elizabeta said, stilted, as she stared at the bloody, sickly form of Romania holding a bloody, sick Moldova in his grip.

"Good to see you too." Vlad muttered, just as curt, Bulgaria bringing up the rear, waving quietly as he dragged Albania behind him.

"Hold the door!" Czech's voice was loud as the spunky Central European came running, and Slovakia was slowly walking behind her. Hungary shut it a bit to keep in the heat, but opened for the pair once they had arrived at the door, the two shivering from the cold.

"It's been a while since we've been here…I don't think I've seen the inside of Austria's estate since the end of World War I." Slovakia admitted quietly, looking around- slightly haunted. "Hi, Elizabeta. I didn't know you went back to Roderich."

"Yeah, it is kinda weird. And we're to believe Gilbert's here by choice?" She giggled. "Will wonders never cease? We win our freedom with no violence, and the Berlin wall falls in the same year?"

"It does seem like a miracle, but then again." Hungary reminded her cheekily, patting her on the back as she ushered the new guests into the heated living room. "It _is_ Christmas."

"Well, next time it's Christmas I expect Germany to be reunified, and then by 1992, I expect the whole damned USSR to fall and the Warsaw pact to be over!" The other female nation laughed. "Imagine that!"

"I'll take those chances." Romania piped up feverishly, grinning, even as his flush face broke out with a new cut, Bulgaria putting gauze pads over it.

"You're on." Czech agreed, the woman laughing as she helped herself to a beer from the case Gilbert brought out.

The Eastern countries dived into the appetizers served, and things lulled into an easy silence, all of them simply enjoying the lack of tenseness in the air.

The doorbell rang again, and it turned out to be the very last of the Warsaw Pact, coming to see them. Estonia, Latvia, Ukraine, and even Belarus had shown up, the four of them looking a bit worse for wear, but alive at the very least.

"Dinner is _served_." Gilbert eventually but in, gesturing to his meal set on the table with pride.

And with 12 personifications rounded around Austria's dining table, they all quietly knew that the real gift was that they were here. They were alright, and they would survive this after all.

Sure, maybe Elizabeta flicked some of Gilbert's food at Romania, inciting a food fight, but they managed to enjoy their company well enough.

Czech was right. Maybe this was a strange miracle of sort.

When Feliks held the mistletoe over her and Gilbert's heads, the two laughed, and Gilbert was embarrassed. However, it was as tradition dictated…

She and Gilbert kissed, and the two caused Moldova to make a disgusted face.

"Adults are weird." He muttered, and Latvia put the other Soviet territory on his lap.

"Totally." He agreed as he covered the child's eyes when they started to make out.


End file.
